Conflicted Innocence (12 page)

“The baby killer?”

“Don’t call her that—but yeah.”

“Outrageous!”

“I know, tell me about it. I was devastated.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him he could stick his job up his bony arse.”

I heard James laughing from the other room, clearly eavesdropping.

“But on the brighter side, I found Grace a lovely nursery. And I got another new job.”

“Jesus Christ. I’m going to have to lie down, just listening to you.” He laughed.

“I know! Anyway, hon. I’m going to have to go because we’re taking Gracie to the swings. When are we going to see you again?”

“That’s what I was going to say, if only I could get a word in edgeways.”

“Cheeky bugger!”

“We were going to come over next Saturday, overnight, if that’s okay?”

“Course it’s okay. If I don’t hear from you before, I’ll see you then.”

“Can’t wait for the next instalment—and you didn’t even get around to telling me about the crazy attacker neighbour.”

“I’ll save that story for next week.” I laughed. “Gotta go. Love you, babe. And say
Hi
to Kevin for me.”

Chapter 21

Lee hardly slept a wink. Thoughts of the detective’s disbelieving face, mixed with Jimmy’s probing questions, set his nerves on edge. He’d never been a good liar. His mother could always see straight through him as a child.

In the end, he got out of bed in the early hours and tried to settle on the sofa. He heard a sound in the front garden at one point, but presumed it must be the neighbour’s cat or fox. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the word MURDERER scrawled across the front door in black spray paint.

He quickly took Lydia a cup of tea up to bed, and ran her a luxurious bubbly bath—forgetting that a bath, especially that bath, was not really her thing anymore.

“I’m sorry, Lyddie. I didn’t think,” he said, when he saw her horrified expression.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll give it a go. It’s just a bath,” she said, chanting the mantra Geri had somehow put in her head. But he wasn’t knocking it. If saying
it’s only a house
, or
it’s only a bedroom,
or
it’s only a bath
over and over worked, then who was he to judge?

Certain she wouldn’t be coming downstairs for a while, he rummaged in the back of the shed for the paint and a brush.

Just after he started painting, Jimmy offered to finish it and he practically snatched his arm off. Between them, Lydia need never find out about the disgusting graffiti.

He just had to keep her inside until the paint dried.

No such luck.

Soon after, a loud rapping at the door had Lydia on her feet and, moments later, she dragged her sister into the kitchen.

Candice’s knuckles were covered in blue paint.

“What the heck is that?” Lydia asked.

“I think I just ruined your nice paint job.” Candice laughed.

“What paint job?” Lydia glanced at Lee.

“Oh the door. Yes. I painted it earlier. I noticed it starting to look shabby.” Lee scratched his head and averted his eyes.

He knew she didn’t buy his explanation, but her excitement at seeing her sister meant she let him off the hook.

He left them to it, feeling more than a little pissed off at Lydia for welcoming her sister with open arms. She had conveniently forgotten the fact the girl had shunned her for the past six years. But Candice had managed to put a genuine smile on his wife’s face, so he wasn’t about to ruin it.

Upstairs, he lay on top of the immaculately made bed, and his stomach ached with fear. He would never survive in prison. Lydia had always been much tougher than him, mentally.

If it looked as though they were getting close, he would have no option but to make a run for it.

It wasn’t as if he’d killed anyone, not really. Susie fell down the stairs, landing wrong. And Lucas intended to kill him, or at the very least, tell the police. So what choice did he have?

Alright, so he was partially to blame for Susie. He shoved her into the cellar, after all. But he didn’t intend to kill her!

He didn’t think they would be able to prove he’d done anything wrong. He needed to sit tight, say nothing, and although they were bound to charge him, a judge and jury wouldn’t find him guilty. How could they? They had nothing on him—nothing at all.

***

On Monday morning, James and I dropped Grace in at the nursery before heading to the office.

The premises weren’t anything flash. Just three rooms plus a bathroom and a small kitchen above an electrical goods store in town. James occupied one of the offices, Lee the other, and they both faced out through a large window towards the reception area—which I presumed would be my domain.

Lee hadn’t arrived yet, so James showed me around, and I made us both a cup of tea while we waited.

“What are you working on?” I asked James.

“I’m compiling a book of British crimes carried out in the 1960’s, which means monotonously trawling various sites and crime files.”

“The sixties? Why that long ago?”

“It’s just one of a series of books I’ve been writing. There are a whole pile of them from the 1800’s right through. There were some notorious criminals in the sixties—the Moors murderers, Mary Bell, Ronnie and Reggie Kray to name but a few. And although I do give these crimes a mention, my main focus is the unsolved murders that hardly ever received any publicity.”

“Sounds interesting. I’ve heard of the Krays and the Moors murderers—but who was Mary Bell?”

“A ten-year-old girl from Newcastle-upon-Tyne who strangled two little boys to death. Heartbreaking really.”

“Gosh! That’s awful.”

“I know. There are some terrible stories. The one I’m looking into at the moment was the little-known murder, in 1969, of Damien Faber, a thirty-year-old taxi driver from Macclesfield found slumped over the wheel of his cab in a layby frequented by lovers. There were no signs of a struggle, just a single bullet hole to the back of the head. He left behind a wife and two little kiddies.”

“Flipping heck. Seems strange he would be in a lay-by for lovers. Do you think he knew his killer?”

“Funny you should say that, but there was some mystery surrounding his death and yes, it has been suggested he knew them.”

“Oooh! Intriguing. Can I help?”

“Of course you can. It can be boring though, trawling through pages and pages of stuff, searching for a little snippet of information, and then compiling it into a folder to sort through at a later date.”

“I don’t mind. I think I might quite like it.”

James sorted me out a comfy chair from the storeroom and switched on the main computer at the reception desk.

“It’s quiet. Isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yes. Lee has the calls from his agency diverted to another rental agency in town. They often help each other out apparently. If there’s anything out of the norm, the agency contacts Lee on his mobile. Lee said he will ease you in slowly so as not to overload you, but to be honest, I think you’ll be able to do it in your sleep.”

“Blimey, I’ll be bored stiff.”

“Not if you’re helping me too, and also, Lee said he has some other things for you to do.”

“I hope so. I’ve never been very good twiddling my thumbs,” I said.

“Okay, so, you know your way around a computer, don’t you?”

“Duh!” I shook my head at him.

“Only asking. There’s no need to be sarky.”

“I worked at a travel agency for ages. I might need a bit of training, depending on the programs you use, but otherwise I’m pretty good.”

“Modest and all.”

I gave him a dig in the ribs.

“Right, I’m just going to pop up the road for a few minutes—I need some notepads,” James said, ducking out the door and clattering down the stairs.

Moments later, I heard footsteps on the stairs again and Lee appeared, looking terrible. His face was pale with dark circles around his eyes. The cuts and bruising from last week had more or less faded apart from the dark purple rings around his neck.

“Lee, you look awful. Are you feeling alright?” I asked.

“Not wonderful, if I’m honest. But I’ve so much stuff to do, I can’t afford any more time off.”

“Can I not cover for you?”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s paperwork that I’ve been putting off for ages. What’s that you’re up to?”

“I was doing a bit of research for James while I waited for you, but I could—”

“No, you’re fine. Has Jimmy showed you how the telephone system works?”

“Briefly, but he said he’d show me properly when we get a call.”

“Well, I have it set up so the calls go directly to another agency, but I might just let you settle in for a few days before transferring them back again.”

“No problem. James’ll be back in a minute.”

“And I’m just in my office if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Lee. Oh by the way, did Lydia enjoy her sister’s surprise visit?”

“Did she ever. Yap, yap, yap. That’s all I heard all night. I couldn’t even hear the TV over their racket.”

“Did she tell you what happened to her?”

“She mentioned Thomas had a bit of a go at her.”

“More than a bit of a go. He was walloping her with his shopping bag.”

“Really? Why would he do that?”

“Beats me. But I had to get inbetween them or he might have really hurt her. He’s out of control.”

“Poor Thomas. He’s always been a little odd ever since I’ve known him, but he’s harmless. He’s seemed increasingly vacant over the past few years, though. You have to wonder what will happen if he gets much worse.”

“Should he be allowed to get any worse? He needs help before someone gets hurt.”

“It was probably a one-off. If it happens again, we’ll get advice as to what can be done.”

Chapter 22

Lee shut himself in his office, only coming out at lunchtime to grab a Cup-a-soup. He seemed distant, but I didn’t really know him so presumed that was just his way.

“Did you hear anything more from the police?” James asked.

“Not a thing. I’m sure I will though—unfortunately.”

“It does seem awful that you will be charged. It’s so unfair,” I said.

“A man died, Geri. It’s the law,” James said.

“I get that, but what a waste of government resources. It’s obvious the guy was up to no good. He’d killed his own girlfriend, and heaven knows what would have happened if Lee wasn’t able to fight him off.”

James shrugged. “It’s the law. I’m sure the man’s family loved him and will want answers. They would have something to say if the police just decided not to prosecute.”

“I guess. Stupid though. Lee was the victim, and now he’s being treated as the criminal.” Lee had gone very quiet while we were talking. “What do you think, Lee?” I asked.

“They need to do their job, I suppose. And that said, I’d better get on with mine.” He retreated to his office again, taking his soup with him.

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked James.

“Course you didn’t. He’s probably just worrying, that’s all.”

“Poor guy.”

“So tell me. How are you getting on with the research on Damien Faber?” James asked.

“Good. I found his wife’s name was Monica Faber. She changed her name when she married again in 1971 to Monica Turpin. I was able to trace her using the electoral roll. They moved from Manchester to Stoke-on-Trent in 1972 and still live in the same house.”

“Great work!” James said, wide-eyed.

“I love it. It’s like nosying into someone’s life. I also found her phone number if you want to call her.”

“Maybe we need a trip to Stoke. Interview her in person.”

I gasped. “Do you think? After all this time? How do you think she’ll be?”

James laughed, shaking his head. “It was a long time ago. I’m sure she’ll be okay.” He got to his feet. “Come on, let’s get back to it.”

“Slave-driver.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” He patted my bottom as we headed back through to reception.

“Cheeky!” I said with a giggle.

The main door opened and a hefty, grey-haired man stepped inside. I didn’t see the dark-skinned, slender woman with him until they were both standing in front of me.

“Hi. How may I help you?” I asked in my most efficient voice.

“It’s okay, Geri,” James said, standing behind me and putting his hands on my shoulders. “Good afternoon, detective. I presume you’re here to speak to Lee?”

As he spoke, I recognised the man as the star-struck detective that had called to the house the other night.

“Yes, that’s right. We tried his home first, but his wife told us we’d find him here.”

“I’ll just get him.” James tapped at Lee’s door before entering and closing the door behind him.

From my position behind the desk, I could tell from Lee’s reaction that Lydia hadn’t warned him. James, clearly trying to calm his mate down, grabbed Lee’s jacket from the back of the chair and urged Lee from the room.

“Detectives. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Good afternoon, Mr Barnes. I’m afraid we’ll need you to accompany us to the station.”

“Really. Can’t I just meet you there?”

“We would prefer it if you came with us if possible, sir?”

“Possible? Yes. A bloody inconvenience? Most definitely. How the hell do you expect me to get home?”

“Don’t worry, Lee. I’ll follow with the car,” James said.

“Are you arresting me?”

“Not at this stage. We have a few further questions.”

“What questions? I told you every single thing the other day.”

“As you know, we have been conducting a series of enquiries, and there are a couple of discrepancies in your statement,” the male detective said.

Lee swallowed on nothing several times, looking around at us all, wide-eyed. “What discrepancies?” he squeaked.

“If you don’t mind, sir?” The detective held his hand up as though to steer Lee to the door.

“James...” Lee said, his eyebrows drawn together tightly.

“I’ll be right behind you. Don’t worry,” James said, “right after I’ve called your solicitor.”

Moments later, Lee and the detectives were gone, and James rushed into his office.

“I’ll have to drop you off at home before I go,” he said, grabbing his phone and car keys. I retrieved my bag and jacket from the kitchen and met James at the front door, where he punched several numbers into the alarm keypad.

“My heart’s pounding!” I said. “I didn’t know what to say to Lee, I felt so helpless.”

James nodded, an intense expression on his face.

“What? Is something wrong?”

We arrived at the Jeep and he pressed the key fob to unlock the doors.

He shrugged, before getting in behind the wheel. “They said there were discrepancies with his statement. I told you something didn’t seem right.”

“I know you did, but what can it be?”

“I have no idea, but I’ll have to call Phillip, his solicitor, and get him to meet us at the station.”

Once outside home, I kissed James’ cheek and hopped out onto the street.

“I’ll call you as soon as I know anything,” he said.

I watched the car as it sped off then, instead of heading through our gate, I turned and went to tell Lydia what had happened.

Candice answered the door mid-knock.

“Geri. How nice to see you. I was going to come to see you today, but Lydia said you were working.”

“I was. How are you?”

“I’m fine, but Lydia is a hermit. I’m going stir crazy in this place.”

“She’s probably still acclimatising. She’ll come right. You’ll see.”

“I bloody well hope so.”

“Is Lydia home?”

“Yeah. Come on through.”

I found Lydia washing dishes at the kitchen sink. She grabbed the towel as she saw me and wiped her hands.

“Geri. What a nice surprise.”

“I’m bringing bad news, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.”

“What’s happened?” Candice asked.

“Lee’s been arrested. Well, not arrested, as such. But the detectives took him to the station for questioning.”

“Oh, yeah, they called round here earlier. I tried to warn Lee, but he didn’t answer the phone.”

“James has gone too, and he’s contacted Lee’s solicitor.”

“I hope he’s okay. Sit down. Can I get you a brew?”

“Actually, I fancy a coffee, if that’s alright?”

“I’ll make it.” Candice reached for the kettle and set about busying herself.

Lydia motioned for me to sit at the dining table, and she took the seat opposite.

“How’ve you been?” I asked.

“So so. Someone wrote something on the front door the other day. did Lee tell you?”

I shrugged. “We saw him. In fact James finished painting because he was concerned you’d be upset. Who told you?”

“I got it out of him when Candy arrived covered in blue paint. Lee’s not a very good liar, and he told the truth when I pushed him. I wish he’d just be honest with me.”

“He’s just trying to protect you. It’s nice really.”

“I don’t need protecting. It’s the same with this intruder business. He denies it, but I know it’s eating him up. He’s not sleeping, or hardly eating. I’m worried about him.”

“Hopefully he’ll find out today which way they intend to play it. It’s often the fear of the unknown. If he’s charged at least he will know. James said they are likely to charge him. He has told you that, hasn’t he?”

Candice appeared with the cups. “He didn’t tell me that! Did you know, Lyddie?”

“I had a feeling they might. But no, he didn’t tell me.”

“Probably the reason he’s been worrying. You’ve only just been released from prison, and now he’s facing court and God knows what else.”

“Could he go down for it?” Candice asked, wide-eyed.

“Who knows? I doubt it, though. He was acting in self-defence, after all,” I said.

“There’s more, though,” Lydia said. “I’m certain he’s not being totally honest.”

“Funnily enough, that’s what James said.”

I could’ve bitten my tongue as I watched a hooded expression cloud Lydia’s face.

“What are we like?” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s a good job we’re not detectives! Lee would be hung, drawn and quartered by now.”

We chitchatted about nonsense until I got to my feet.

“Oh, well. I’ve got a couple of hours before I go for Missie-moo. I may as well put it to good use. Did I tell you James is letting me help research his new book?”

“No!” Lydia said. “I bet that’s exciting.”

“I know. It is. He said I have a flair for it, but I don’t know if he’s just blowing smoke up my backside. Either way, I don’t care—I enjoyed this morning.”

“Give me a knock when you’re going to pick her up. I need to brave the great outdoors sometime, if you don’t mind the company?” Lydia said.

“Great. We can take her to the swing on the way back, if you like? She loves it.” I turned to Candice. “Any more nasty business from mad Thomas?”

“No, but I’ve not seen him.”

They walked me to the door.

“James said he’ll call me as soon as he knows anything, so I’ll let you know. Otherwise, I’ll see you at four-thirty.”

Once home, I opened up my laptop and sat at the dining table. I couldn’t find any further information on Damien Faber. In the sixties, newspaper articles were the only form of media, outside of television and radio, and there were no coroner’s reports available online.

City Cabs, the taxi company Damien worked for, still existed, although the chances of anybody remembering any details of the murder were highly unlikely. I recorded the phone number for James, anyway.

A strange thrill made me giddy with excitement, although it felt a little wrong to be prying into someone’s private life. Especially knowing that person died so horribly.

A light tap on the window alerted me to the time. “Shit!” I said, jumping to my feet and rushing to the door.

Candice stood on the doorstep. “Lydia has chickened out,” she said, “but I’ll come with you for a bit of fresh air.”

“Oh, thank goodness you called. I didn’t realise the time.”

We set off at a fast pace towards the nursery. I felt quite guilty for almost forgetting about my darling daughter after her first full day of nursery.

Candice came inside when we arrived and hung about by the reception area while I collected Grace. I noticed a scowl on her face when I came back out.

“What’s happened?” I asked, thinking I’d obviously missed something.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

I put Grace into her pushchair and looped her bag on the handle. “Don’t give me that. I can tell something’s upset you.”

“It’s just that girl in there.” She nodded back towards the baby area.

“Wendy?”

“Yes. Wendy Williamson. She used to be a real bitch when we were at school.”

“Oh, she seems older than you.”

“She is—a couple of years older. But that didn’t stop her bullying me every single day, for months. She made my life a living hell.”

I shook my head, speechless. The Wendy I knew seemed gentle and kind. I didn’t like the idea of leaving my daughter with someone who could hurt children.

“But that was a long time ago, surely. She’s grown up now, and she’s great with Grace.”

Candice shrugged. “Yes, almost seven years ago. But still, I can’t forget what she did.”

I stopped walking and wiped Grace’s mouth, which seemed to be constantly drooling lately. “What did she do?”

“She did lots of things. But the main thing was when she and Kathleen Lyons shut me in a caretaker’s cupboard at school. I was there for hours before anybody found me. I’d even wet myself.”

“That’s terrible! Did they get in trouble?”

“Suspended from school for a week and were made to apologise to me, but they didn’t stop. They would wait for me on the way to and from school, trip me up, steal my bag. You know, the usual.”

“I didn’t go through anything like that in school, not really. There was a girl, my mum’s friend’s daughter, who was popular and would get me in trouble by daring me to do stuff, but she never hurt me.”

“You were lucky.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“Yes. My mum even started walking me to school, which made it worse to be honest.”

“I can imagine. It’s not cool as a teenager to have your parents in tow.”

“I was eleven, so not quite a teenager. Wendy and Kathleen were a couple of years older, but they called me a baby because my mum walked me to school. They didn’t behave as bad when Lydia took me. In fact, a lot of the kids loved seeing Joey—he was such a cute baby.”